Ten 70's Summers

I was one year old in 1970. This was the year our most cherished family tradition began for me. Of course I can’t remember that particular annual family reunion, but several during that decade are etched in my heart memories forever. 

Each year the entire family on my Daddy’s side, gathered in the small Texas town of Stephenville. My grandmother, Mammaw, only saw her extended family, the third weekend in June, annually.

As much as I loved actually attending the reunion, part of the excitement for me as a young girl, was the long road trip itself. Mammaw always rode with us. One of our traditions was that I would always sit in her lap during the car ride. This was long before the requirement of seat belts. The most memorable trips included a stops along the way. One year we stopped in Glenrose, Texas at Dinosaur Valley. I will always treasure the snapshots from that day of dinosaur tracks and the statue of a T-Rex.

After hours in the car, we would finally arrive Friday evening and set up camp. The campground was located at the city park. Our family reserved half of a large pavilion, while two other families had their own spots reserved on the same weekend as ours. Most of us camped in tents in the city park, amongst the swing sets and merry go rounds. 

I looked forward each year to the city pool, located directly beside our part of the covered pavilion. Our days were spent swimming, seeing distant cousins, and eating the most delicious spread of food. Someone would inevitably start a game of softball on the nearby ball field. Then, after dark, my older cousins would sneak into the city pool. I’m sure the adults were aware, but they would pretend to not notice. 

On Saturday night, we all enjoyed live music and dancing at the pavilion next to ours. I’ll never forget the year one of my aunts decided to dance. She didn't have an available partner, so she grabbed a broom. We were slightly embarrassed by her antics, but what a cute memory of my now 80 year old aunt.

Sunday was always bittersweet. We would all be up with the sun to anticipate Aunt Lucy’s special breakfast. She always cooked the best SOS. (Sausage gravy, in my family)

We spent time together taking photos, visiting, and playing as much as we could squeeze in. By late afternoon, we were packed and ready to say our goodbyes. 

We would drive the long trip home, tired and a little sad to have to leave. Then we would start looking forward to the third weekend of June, the next year, before we could even make it back home.